


A Night in the Old House on the Hill

by traptrixnepenthes



Category: Future Card Buddyfight
Genre: M/M, Vampire AU, halloween fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-10 02:44:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16461896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/traptrixnepenthes/pseuds/traptrixnepenthes
Summary: the scariest thing i have to offer for halloween is a new kyotas ficthis is an au i've had sitting in the back of my head for about two years, and only now have i put it to paper.





	A Night in the Old House on the Hill

**Author's Note:**

> i never watched or read twilight. the period of my life where people were obsessed with vampires was spent reading agatha christie. this fic has nothing to do with either of those things

It was a cliche, honestly. There was a house on a hill that overlooked the entire town, not quite high enough up to be visible throughout the entire place, but it was close enough. It was said to have belonged to the original landowners, but that couldn’t be true, because even as dilapidated and crumbling as it was, it couldn’t possibly be _that_ old. It was a simple two stories tall, not really big enough to seem imposing, but the outside had been bleached from many years in the sunlight, what would have surely been a beautiful garden was now overgrown with gnarled weeds, and the stone walls that secured the iron gates in front had been tagged with so many layers of graffiti that it was impossible to guess what color they originally were.

From the outside, at least.

Although the gates lay ajar, a broken chain and padlock hanging off one of them, there were no tags on the inner walls. The house itself seemed completely untouched, even by the usual thrill-seekers who would’ve broken into just about anywhere if they thought they could. Sure, just like any other old house on a hill, it had who knew how many stories about it--a fortune in the basement, a vicious monster lived inside of it, if you stepped inside you’d be cursed, and so on and so forth--and yet, for some reason, instead of encouraging trespassers, it seemed to keep them away entirely.

The old house surely would’ve been demolished ages ago, but someone was still quietly paying all the necessary fees to keep it up. Who that could’ve been was unknown, but surely, Kyoya had thought to himself, it had to mean there was someone living in there.

Other would-be explorers had hesitated too long at the gate, but Kyoya wouldn’t. He’d simply sat outside, observing the house, and after this long of seeing the curtains that simply _weren’t_ natty enough to be as old as the rest of the place, and the occasional fluttering of movement just beyond, he was certain that there was someone--or something--in there. He had a theory, of course, and it was one he hadn’t told anyone else. As the head of his family, even at just fifteen years old, a certain amount of decorum and realism was expected of him, so it wasn’t even something he’d written down anywhere, lest the people who wanted to ruin him happened upon it while poking through his things.

The theory didn’t have much to go on. It was just a theory. Maybe what he thought was movement was simply a draft in the house. Maybe the regular--every ninety days, to be specific--attacks on a different hospital’s supply of donated blood was pure coincidence. It wasn’t like people were being attacked in the street or anything. Maybe the fact that no one had tried to enter the house was just...who knew what could’ve caused that.

But Kyoya was certain there was a vampire living in the old house on the hill. It was just like every trashy teen romance novel he would’ve denied reading and then instead pirated from behind seven proxies. There was a vampire living there, and he was going to find it, talk to it, maybe live out some of the things those trashy romance novels talked about. He had _expectations_ from this venture, and even if it turned out there wasn’t a single thing in that old house, much less an attractive creature of the night to seduce as his final act of childhood rebellion, it would still make a good story later.

The moon was full, and Kyoya left from the front door, not especially caring who knew he was leaving in the middle of the night, if anyone even noticed. His home was situated only a few blocks away from the old house on the hill, and the moonlight above left him completely unafraid of anything that could’ve happened on the walk there. It was still midsummer and the night was pleasantly warm, and between that and the shining moon above, it felt like the perfect night.

The sidewalk continued past the old house on the hill, but snaking up the hill was a dirt road that a car might have driven up who knew how many years in the past. It led all the way up to the iron gates, shining in the moonlight, and as soon Kyoya put a hand on the metal a chill stabbed through him. It wasn’t like touching something on a summer night, but like grabbing ice in the middle of winter, and he jerked his fingers away almost instantly.

That certainly would explain part of what would’ve kept other explorers away. There was _definitely_ something in that house, and if it could do something like that, it probably wasn’t friendly at all.

Kyoya looked up at the house, having watched it for hours in the night before, and saw a curtain on the upper floor flutter, as if someone had been watching him. His chest felt like it was in a vice, the dread at the realization that there was something there and it _knew_ he was there, wanting to trespass into its domain squeezing him so harshly he couldn’t move--this was what kept people away. _Something_ was in there, but who would believe them if they told anyone?

But that was what Kyoya had been hoping for, after all.

He grabbed the icy gate and dragged it open, rusty hinges screaming at him to turn back, and he slipped in. Just inside the gate was a cobblestone path that the weeds were trying to consume, but it felt reassuringly solid under his shoes. The garden, if it could even be called that, didn’t move. _Of course it couldn’t move,_ Kyoya gently scolded himself. There wasn’t even a breeze. How would it move? Instead of continuing down that train of thought, he looked up at the house again, and now that he was a bit closer, he thought he saw pinpricks of light shining out from cracks in where the curtains lined up with each other.

The path from the gate to the double front doors seemed to stretch for ages, but step after step, the pressure on his chest increasing with every one, Kyoya was finally in front of it. Only now that he’d gotten this far did he even pause to think--what if the door was locked? But he still put his hand on the handle and tried to push it open.

The door shifted in the frame, peeling paint flaking off as it moved, and then the door opened into the house. Kyoya stepped inside, closing the door behind him, and marveled at what he saw.

It wasn’t as if it was spotless or anything, but someone was clearly trying to take care of the interior. There were lamps lit and sitting on tables near the entryway, and the tops of them didn’t look dusty at all. There were old paintings hung on the walls, not too many to be cluttered, but enough to make it obvious that the family that had lived here--maybe still lived here?--was very, very wealthy. The wooden floor had heavy rugs in dark purples and reds over most of it, covering wide gaps between the panels that had come with age. Someone lived here. He’d been sure of it even before he’d opened the gate, but it was certain, now.

There was a creak of footsteps from the upper floor, and Kyoya’s eyes darted up to the balcony that overlooked the front hall--there, with one hand on the railing, was a pale boy who couldn’t have been older than Kyoya. His tired eyes were a vivid red, and his cyan hair was long and messy, as if he hadn’t been bothered to cut it while it grew. From this angle, he couldn’t even see how long it really was. Their eyes met, his and those of the boy in the house on the hill, and the boy said, “What are you doing here?”

For a moment, Kyoya couldn’t even speak, wrapped up in those red eyes. Was this what books called a hypnotizing gaze? And then he found his voice again. “The door was unlocked.”

“I know that. I don’t know where the key is anymore.” The boy started walking down the stairs, his footfalls muffled by more carpet, but he just kept talking. “That’s not a real answer, though. Why are you here?”

And now the boy stood in front of him. He was shorter than Kyoya had expected, something like half a foot shorter than Kyoya was, and his hair reached almost all the way down to his knees. This wasn’t really what Kyoya had expected from a vampire, but he’d take it. It wasn’t as if the boy was unattractive, after all. He looked tired, a bit gaunt, and his hair was a veritable mess, but there was still some sort of regal grace in how he held himself, in how his clothes--a simple sweater and pants, too warm for the summer evening they found themselves in--hung off his thin body.

Kyoya’s heart soared in his chest. This boy might not look like the gothic stereotype he’d been expecting, but that didn’t mean he didn’t fulfill Kyoya’s expectations. “I wanted to meet you.”

“I _know_ that.” He crossed his arms and frowned. “You’ve been skulking outside my house for the last two weeks. If the phone line was still connected, I would’ve called the authorities on you.”

“It wouldn’t have done anything. My family’s too rich for anything to happen to me.” Kyoya still didn’t quite dare take another step inside. The boy looked weak, but there was still a pressure in his chest that was completely unrelated to admiring his cute face. “I didn’t actually know you were here, but...I had a feeling someone was, and I wanted to meet whoever it might’ve been.”

The boy huffed. “Couldn’t you have just knocked, then?”

“Would you have answered?”

“No.”

“I didn’t think you would.” Kyoya took a single step inside, his feet sinking into the heavy carpet. “You don’t really seem all that upset by me walking in here. What’s your name?”

The boy hesitated, looking at Kyoya with an expression that didn’t quite fit the stern voice he’d been using. “I’m Tasuku. What about you?”

“Kyoya,” he said, and he looked over Tasuku again. Maybe it was rude, suddenly jumping to the topic that felt more pressing than just exchanging their names, but again, Kyoya had certain expectations. “You’re...a vampire, right?”

Tasuku startled a bit, those vivid eyes of his widening, but he caught himself almost immediately. “And what led you to _that_ conclusion?”

Kyoya shrugged. He couldn’t just say it was hope, after all. He had to impress this cute vampire boy, after all. “I’d think attacks on hospitals with nothing taken but part of their stocks of donated blood every three months would be pretty conspicuous. It’s not as if anyone’s getting attacked in the streets and being found with bite marks, so…”

“That’s kind of flimsy evidence.”

“It’s not like you’re denying it.”

“Look,” Tasuku said sharply, almost pointedly avoiding answering the question, “why are you here?”

“I told you. I wanted to meet you.”

“And now you’ve met me. Go home.”

“Hm…” Kyoya took another step in. “No. I only just met you, and I think I want to get to know you better.” He tilted his head, gazing into those ruby-red eyes--or maybe it would be more apt to call them blood-red?--and Tasuku easily met his gaze, but there was something other than confidence that brought their eyes together. “We still have the whole night together.”

Tasuku watched him, unblinking, and the silence only helped to fuel the pressure in Kyoya’s chest. And then the boy in the house on the hill glanced down and said, so very, very softly, “It...has been a while since I’ve gotten to talk to someone. I guess I wouldn’t mind it if you stayed for a while.”

Kyoya smiled at Tasuku, who couldn’t seem to meet his gaze again. “Would you mind showing me around, then? This is a very nice entry hall, but sitting somewhere to get to know you better would be even better.”

“Alright.” Tasuku smiled back, and it wasn’t the shy smile Kyoya expected. They’d only just met, and yet Tasuku’s smile was so full of warmth that didn’t match his tired eyes. It was equal parts polite and restrained and genuinely happy, a fascinating mix that really did make Kyoya want to know more about him.

It also made him realize that, even to speak, Tasuku just barely opened his mouth.

Kyoya followed Tasuku from the entry hall down a small hallway to a room with a heavy oak dining table, three chairs sitting around it, three places set. So it would’ve been just Tasuku and his parents, presumably. Kyoya hadn’t asked if the two of them were alone, but it certainly hadn’t felt like there was anyone else in this house, and if there’d been adults living here with him, things probably would have been a bit neater.

It was kind of depressing, looking at that table, but Tasuku just stepped into another room and dragged a fourth chair out of it, bringing it up to the table. “Give me just a moment. I don’t really have much to offer, but it’s only polite to set a place for my guest.”

Tasuku bustled back into the other room, and Kyoya peeked into it after him--it was...probably a kitchen. It was so messy, with things like dishes and papers piled high in the sink and on all the counters, that it was hard to tell what it actually was. Tasuku apparently only cared about keeping rooms he actually used clean, and Kyoya watched as he fished out a set of silverware, a plate, and a glass from somewhere within the piles. He stepped back and watched silently, somehow fascinated by the gesture. He kept places set for himself and two other people, and yet Kyoya suddenly appearing was enough to warrant getting something that seemed to have been set up like a vigil.

How long had Tasuku meant when he said he’d gone a long time without talking to someone?

“I don’t usually--eat here,” Tasuku said, cutting himself off before he said something else, “but if you’re planning on staying for the night, it’d only be polite to set this up just in case. But I think the only thing I have that would appeal to you is water. And maybe tea.”

“I appreciate the gesture regardless, but don’t feel like you need to go out of your way for me.” Who knew what the quality of either of those would be, if it was coming out of a room like the kitchen. “Who are the other placements for?”

Tasuku placed the knife delicately, right where it would have been if he’d been setting the table for a formal dinner, and said, “For my parents.”

“Are they here?”

“No.”

Back to short answers. Pressing the issue probably wouldn’t get anything out of him. All thoughts of _seduction_ and _illicit romance_ had flown out of Kyoya’s head back when he first realized that yes, this was a real vampire in the form of teen just like him. A kid living all alone in this big house, never leaving it except for perhaps once every few months, but keeping it clean as if he were expecting someone to visit. Tasuku was utterly _fascinating_. He wanted to know every single thing about him.

“How about your room, then? Is it upstairs?”

“Oh, yes.” Tasuku nodded. “I...I don’t know if I want you to see it, though. It’s pretty messy.”

“I don’t mind. We’re friends now, aren’t we?”

The word struck Tasuku just how Kyoya had expected. It was such an easy word to say, and yet to some people it meant absolutely everything. And to Tasuku, all alone in this cage of his own making, it meant even more. He’d been curt when Kyoya had first come into the house, but now Kyoya had him all figured out.

It was more of a survival skill than anything, having to know how to read people and know what they want to hear. Fifteen years old and being shoved into family and company politics meant Kyoya had needed to learn fast, and he’d taken to it perhaps a bit more easily than he should have. Organizing people with words had just been something he _did_ until now, but seeing Tasuku smile so gently at hearing the word _friends_ made him realize how much more he could be doing.

“Alright, then. I guess.” Tasuku’s words were reluctant, but there was a bounce in his step as he led Kyoya through the house, up the stairs, and to a room near the front of house. Of course Tasuku’s room would be near the front--how else would he have watched Kyoya watching the house?

It wasn’t much of a tour, but Kyoya was able to glance into other rooms they passed--a bathroom with a large claw foot bathtub, kept darkened like other rooms Tasuku apparently didn’t use. A bedroom that definitely wasn’t his, with a large bed and full length windows, the moon’s bright light shining through them and dyeing the interior silver. The bathroom had been messy and cluttered just like the kitchen had been, but the large bedroom was almost immaculate, apart from the cobwebs that shone in the moonlight.

Tasuku’s room was, as promised, a mess. One wall was covered in bookcases packed so tightly with books that it looked like the shelves were straining, the back of each one showing so many bends and creases that they’d certainly all been gone over who knew how many times. In the far corner, next to the window Kyoya had always noticed was the one with curtains that fluttered as if someone had just been looking out of it, was a four-poster bed, its blankets messy and unmade, the pillows all piled into one corner. On the floor were more stacks of books, presumably how Tasuku kept himself entertained when people weren’t trying to break into his home, along with piles of clothes that had mostly just been kicked into corners. It felt eerily similar to Kyoya’s room back home, although given the expectations that fell on him, he couldn’t have kept it so messy.

Like in all the rooms of the house, a heavy rug covered the floor, this one a deep burgundy with gold trimmings around the edges. A desk was set against a free wall, a few candles and a lamp sitting on it as the only illumination the room offered. It was a large enough room, and on their entry Tasuku started trying to neaten things up a little bit, but Kyoya just took a seat at the desk, not commenting on the clutter. Instead he just said, “This feels a lot like my room.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” Kyoya sat back, looking around, and Tasuku sat down on his bed, trying to make the pillows look more presentable. “You spend most of your time here, don’t you?”

“Is it really that obvious?” Tasuku smiled apologetically. “I wasn’t expecting you to just walk in here. If I had, I would’ve put more effort into cleaning things up for you.”

“It really isn’t much of a problem, I promise.” Kyoya smiled back, and Tasuku went from apologetic to happy. “You should come and visit me instead, next time.”

“Oh, I couldn’t. I wouldn’t want to be an imposition. Besides, I...don’t really like leaving this house very much.”

“Why not?”

Tasuku hesitated, and Kyoya continued, making his voice as gentle as he could. “You don’t have to worry. We’re friends now. You can tell me anything you want, Tasuku.”

“Friends…” Tasuku said the word carefully, almost reverently. It was so _easy_ to get him to respond how Kyoya wanted him to. “I… The truth is, I’m exactly who you say I am. I am a vampire.” Tasuku glanced up at Kyoya, as if expecting him to react somehow, with fear or revulsion maybe, so of course he had to hide his giddy glee over being told everything was exactly how he’d expected. “You’re right, honestly. Stealing hospital supplies isn’t anywhere near subtle, but what other option am I supposed to take? Just...attacking people? I can’t do that. I could _never_ do that.”

These words were the most forceful ones Tasuku had said since the two of them first met, even more than when he’d snapped at Kyoya to get out. It was to eat, to _survive_ , and Tasuku would still prioritize strangers he’d never met over himself. Everything he learned about the vampire in the house on the hill was so completely different from Kyoya that he couldn’t help wanting to learn as much as he could about him. Kyoya wouldn’t have hesitated to do anything he needed to, if it was for the sake of coming out on top, but here Tasuku was--looking so tired, so hungry, and not even _implying_ he might attack Kyoya.

Perhaps not all of his thoughts that stemmed from trashy romance had left him yet.

“So...you don’t want to hurt anyone? That’s why you don’t leave?”

“That’s right. It’s a fair trade, don’t you think? No one gets hurt, and I try to only take whatever stock they have the most of. It’s not really enough, but…”

Kyoya stood up from his seat and stepped around a pile of something to sit next to Tasuku. He looked so tired. The sweater he wore hid his silhouette, but his hands were thin and bony, and Kyoya gently took one of them. Tasuku’s skin was cold, and he tried to pull away almost on reflex, and Kyoya would have let him if he’d been serious about it, but there wasn’t any real force put into it.

So they sat there, side by side in their silence, until Kyoya said gently, “I can’t imagine how hard it is for you.”

Tasuku smiled, but there was no joy in it, not this time. “It’s fine. It’s not like there’s a better option.”

“But you’re hungry, aren’t you?”

“I am,” Tasuku admitted, and a rush of giddiness surged through Kyoya. Imagine coming across a vampire, a real live vampire, and not only was he polite and kind and everything the stereotypical vampire _isn’t_ , but he even has such a staunch moral code that he would rather suffer than hurt anyone. A simple person with simple values, and it’d been so easy for Kyoya to talk his way into Tasuku’s not-so well-kept secrets.

So what would happen if…

“How did you become a vampire?” Kyoya heard himself ask the question, trying to shake off the ideas piling into his head. He couldn’t come on too strong, after all. “If...that’s not too personal a question.”

“Not really.” His voice was flat. “Many, many, many years ago, an illness of some sort afflicted me and my parents. It came on very suddenly, and there was nothing any doctor could do for us. Eventually, all three of us died.” Tasuku’s gaze drifted, looking so far, far away. “I was the only one who came back like this, though. I’m sure if you dug through enough records you’d find our names.”

Kyoya had, but it clearly hadn’t been far enough back.

“I was...I think I was thirteen at the time. I guess I still am thirteen. Maybe I’d feel like I was older if I didn’t keep myself locked up in here.”

“I don’t know. By that count, that means I’m only a little bit older than you. It’d be weird trying to befriend someone too much older than me.”

Tasuku laughed softly, delicately covering his mouth with his free hand. “True. It’s not as if my body can get any older than this, after all. Maybe being an eternal preteen is for the best.”

“You should definitely come and visit me sometime. I’m nowhere near in the same situation as you, but it would be nice to have a friend like you.” It was only about halfway a lie, but all the best lies had truth at their core. “I’m alone in my home too, but I’m surrounded by all sorts of people. They only care about my status in the family, so it isn’t as if it’s actually me they care about.”

Tasuku hesitated, and Kyoya waited patiently to hear the words he was so certain he’d hear. And he wasn’t disappointed. “Maybe I will.”

First step down. “Maybe there’s something I can do to help you. Maybe I can find people for you to feed on.”

This time, Tasuku jerked his hand away, suddenly on his feet. “No! I could never. I--I appreciate the gesture, but--”

“You don’t want to attack people, right? You wouldn’t have to. They’d be perfectly willing.” There was a faraway look in Tasuku’s eyes now, and he couldn’t quite respond to what Kyoya was saying. “It doesn’t count as attacking them if they invite you to, doesn’t it?”

“Th-that--” Tasuku was eyeing Kyoya dangerously, and then shook his head hard, as if to clear it. “N-no. I couldn’t. I appreciate the offer, but I just can’t hurt people like that.”

Close. So close. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t mind being the first in line. It wouldn’t be right of me to do nothing for you. My friend.”

He brought one hand up to the side of his neck, tilting his head just a little to expose it better. The look in Tasuku’s eyes was beyond dangerous, and that pressure of outright fear was trying to crush Kyoya again, but that was nothing. A little danger came with how his life had ended up, anyways. And this was just so much more interesting than anything that could ever have been offered to him anywhere else.

“You--you really don’t know what you’re saying,” Tasuku said, his voice shaky, his breath shallow. “You don’t know.”

“Sure I do. I know I’m offering help to you, Tasuku. That’s what matters, doesn’t it?”

He would’ve preferred not using himself as the bargaining chip in most situations, but that was what made this exhilarating. Here he was, vulnerable and in the line of fire, and yet still clearly the one completely in control of what was happening. It was so _easy_ to get Tasuku to act exactly how he wanted him to.

Tasuku brought one hand up to his chest, as if he were trying to cover up a heart that probably couldn’t even beat anymore, and said something, his voice barely above a whisper. “Helping…”

“That’s right.” Kyoya smiled at Tasuku, but Tasuku’s gaze was focused on only one thing--Kyoya’s bare neck. Maybe just the major veins and arteries that lie just below the skin. “Helping each other is what friends do, after all.”

Tasuku reached out to him, and Kyoya didn’t move. No point in spoiling it when he’d already gotten this far. One hand went to his shoulder and the other to the side of his head, changing Kyoya’s position just a little bit. He watched Tasuku, waiting to see what would happen next, when Tasuku finally opened his mouth.

His jaws were lined with serrated shark teeth, row after row, each one glinting like a knife in the candlelight. It was nothing like the tiny little pinpricks that had woven themselves into his fantasies, and he didn’t even have time to react before Tasuku bit into his throat.

\------------

There was a house on a hill that overlooked the entire town, not quite high enough up to be visible throughout the entire place, but it was close enough. All sorts of weird little myths and urban legends surrounded it, as they naturally did around any sort of abandoned building that managed to last as long as that one had, and it sure had been around a long time. They say that about ten years ago, the young head of a major company had gone into it and then never come back out.

The cops had investigated, of course. They opened the gates and stomped through the garden and would’ve broken down the front doors if the locks hadn’t been so old they couldn’t actually latch anymore, but the only thing they found inside was...absolutely nothing. Old furniture that had probably belonged to the family that used to live there and nothing else. They checked out the whole place, top to bottom, even going through the basement, and found no sign of the company head or the former occupants.

People had always avoided the place before that, but not even the bravest thrill seekers dared get close anymore. They say the kid that vanished inside of it had gone there _willingly_ , after all, though no one could guess why. They’d gone through all his stuff after he’d vanished, and hadn’t found a single clue.

Besides, they say if you get too close, you can see shadows on the curtains in the windows. Two people sitting close together, as if they were close friends or maybe lovers. Get too close to the outer walls and you might even hear them talking to each other about how happy they are, now that they aren’t alone anymore.

But really, you shouldn’t even try it. It just isn’t safe going anywhere near someplace that old. It could fall apart at any moment, and you really don’t want to get caught up in that.

Trust me. One friend to another.


End file.
